


there's light escaping that crack in the wall; catch some for me, wont you?

by dreamyshadows



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Angst, Could be underage, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension, brother issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyshadows/pseuds/dreamyshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because life goes on, and then you die. </p><p>Out on the road, living in close quarters with only the Mexican sun shedding any warmth, Seth and Kate understand love and hate, pain and pleasure, and how evil and good aren't really that different; lying and cheating their way through life, their eyes open to a desire that sets heated sands ablaze, and curses that spurn any chance of a happy ending. </p><p>They find out that before you die, you get a chance to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's light escaping that crack in the wall; catch some for me, wont you?

_chapter one_

\-- | --

The sun's finally setting over the hazy horizon; subdued oranges playing hide and seek with the far more prominent red that colors the sky.

Kate smirks. It's eerily symbolic, she muses to herself; daddy's dead, Scott's gone, Richie's god knows where, and she's stuck with Seth - it might as well be the sunset to her own life.

She tilts her head to the right, ears protesting the sudden growl of the engine that sounds like a dangerous animal behind her. Seth's working on the car because it didn't live up to its shiny brand name, and now they're stuck somewhere even farther from nowhere with only guns and the clothes on their backs.

Symbolic once again, she thinks.

Girls who drive stakes through their father's hearts shouldn't be privy to the subtler treasures of life. Forget food and water, she should be pinned to the Cross like Christ himself. Except that she dies for the sins she's committed - not to drive others' sins into oblivion.

_Mama would be so upset._

"Hey princess, you wanna help me out here for a minute?"

Seth's voice is stilted and oddly glossed over. His words sound edgy and roughed out, like he's making an effort just to open his mouth and form a proper sentence. Kate fights the odd urge to call him out on his crap - she's been wanting to call out a lot of people on a lot of crap these days. Scott, her father, her mother...the list would go on if she knew more people, but a preacher's daughter is destined to a life of loneliness.

Plus, she'd rather not ask anything of Seth. Daddy, Scott, and Momma are all dead, aren't they? Ironically enough, Seth is the only constant in her life for right now, and no matter what the ranger or her father said about him, Kate knows he's the only thing keeping her sane.

\----

Sane doesn't mean what it used to.

Kate realizes this when Seth goads her into taking a particular "job" during a random trip on the open road; she's naive at first because she misunderstands the implications - thinks it's truly a  _normal_ job he's referring to rather than the ones she's accustomed to where he's concerned. But naiveté is a liability where the Gecko's are concerned, and when she walks into a run-down semblance of a gas-n-sip somewhere in the middle of the Mexican desert, Kate knows exactly what the so called "job" is.

Given an ultimatum by the devil himself, Kate’s naiveté runs away like a gazelle chased by a cheetah. She wishes she could follow it, but Seth's right here and so is she.

\----

Sometimes when they're robbing a store, Seth's hands will stray a little too close to her breasts - and linger there until they haul ass. Even though his motions are rough as they are required for the role, with Kate screaming  _please dont hurt me, please I'm a young girl with a family, just please don't hurt me,_ his chapped lips skirt over the shell of her ear, over the slightly scratched skin of her temple, and she closes her eyes at the unbelievably gentle touch.

It feels like coming home.

\----

The thought ruptures into her brain on the twenty-third day they've spent together.

_She loves him._

She' sitting on the somehow soft motel bed with her knees tucked tightly under her chin; just washed hair smelling of whatever soap Seth uses covering half lidded eyes, and teeth worrying her frayed lips. Seth is somewhere outside, whereabouts unknown. He's probably hustling some pool at best, sleeping with some prostitute at the worst.

Kate falls back onto the bed and buries her head into the pillows that smell faintly of something she can't really place. Her ears perk when she hears the door open, but its a tear that leaks out of her eye when there's a giggle that resounds in the small room.

She falls asleep with tears in her eyes and Seth's name on her lips.

\----

After that night, she undergoes a sort of awakening. Kate doesn't know what to call it; it's not the romanticized rebirth of fairy tales and church myths. No, this is the most real - almost surreal - thing she's ever felt. It's a lit fire in her bones with no water left in the world to douse the flames.

_And she doesn't want to extinguish it._

She revels in this burning glory. Smiles at the men who eye her like hungry wolves, shakes her hips a little in the way she's seen stripp- exotic dancers do, bends down a little further when she hits the winning shot and makes nearly 400 dollars for the night.

When Seth's usually full lips are pursed in a thin line, Kate assumes its because she earned more cash than him at the bar.

\----

It's not the money.

Kate fully understands the implications of her new found attitude on a sultry summer day almost ninety days after they've been together. It's quite the mundane afternoon that bleeds into a somewhat more interesting evening that she celebrates with killer aims on the pool table, and even sharper jabs at the men intent on staring at her behind. She rolls her eyes. If this is what boys behave like, she's thankful she stopped with just the one kiss she'd shared with Kyle.

_Kyle._

His name brings a small pang of  _something_  to her throat. After almost three months on the road, Kate knows its not regret. She isn't that humane anymore; she's nowhere near the little girl she was when she kissed him behind that church.

Her fire licks up her limbs, and she forgets all about the floppy haired boy who once meant something to her.

With her muddy brown eyes, she shoots the guy leeching over her a subtle glare, and leans over to make her best shot yet.

She wins, obviously.

When she leaves with Seth, her pockets are significantly heavier and her heart is surprisingly lighter.

\----

Seth doesn't like her blasphemous resurrection - and he's not even subtle about it. Not at all.

His eyes follow her movements critically, lenses narrowing angrily in her direction at every bar she visits. Eyes widening when she strokes the cue stick like she's seen countless women do; narrowing once again when her tongue sashays out to lick at newly softened lips.

She might be a virgin, but she's not stupid.

She might be inexperienced, but she's not unbeknownst to desire.

Her own eyes battle with his over the pool table; brown clashing with brown, each holding out and throwing different accusations at each other. Kate's hurling storm words at him about how he led her family into this, how her daddy's dead because of him, how her brother's a monster because of his damned ways.

She stops at that last one and her lenses soften with realization.

It's not just her brother who's a monster.

She sees Seth lean back against the bar, legs apart in a near defensive stance, and Kate knows that he's heard her allegations. His head drops onto his chest for a minute and she sees his lips form words she can't read from this far away. But his eyes are closed, and she can't believe it if she tried, but she thinks he's praying.

When he looks straight at her the next time, she knows he's been reciting the Psalms.

\----

There's some out worldly beauty in being broken, Kate thinks. Some wild abandon in truly living like there's no tomorrow; like lifting your face to the sky and not giving a damn about whether someone's up there deciding where you're gonna go once your body rots.

Seth teaches her that.

In his quiet and crude way of living life, the infamous bank robber shows her that life isn't what you make it, but what you make  _of_ it. There is something such as destiny, but its nowhere near as beautiful as what people think it is. It's cold and often leads to despair rather than nirvana. But there's more to life than destiny, and Seth shows her that.

She changes because of him. Kate doesn’t know - _and doesn't even want to know_ \- whether this change is good or bad. But it certainly feels good.

And that's all that matters.

\----

The fire in her veins burns her on the fateful evening of August 16th.

For such an important night, it's remarkably uneventful until they get to another of those filthy bars.  _There's the preacher's daughter,_ she thinks. She could change her views for the world, but nothing set her off like the sheer lack of hygiene in a place like this.

She walks to the middle of the room where the pool tables usually are to assume her rightful place as their queen; but there isn't any. Where there should be her money making machine, naked women are parading up and down the area, some twisting their bodies around poles, every part of them exposed shamelessly to the world.

Kate doesn't judge them, but she does marvel.

When one of the women in question saunters towards her and winks with those devilish blue eyes, Katie-cakes feels entranced. There's a growing tightness in her stomach that isn't quite comfortable, but isn't altogether unpleasant either.

The woman is saying something to her, wavy blond hair brushing her long eyelashes every time she rakes Kate's body with her sexed eyes; silver taloned fingers dangerously close to her chest, head falling forward, tongue licking candy red lips,  _almost at Kate's face_ -

She feels Seth before she sees him.

He says something she cant hear, but unlike the woman, his words are meant to be a warning rather than some sort of temptation. Whatever results from his mouth leaves the lady insulted, and she almost runs into the back room from his menacing provocation.

For some odd reason, Kate breaks into a bout of laughter.

Seth looks at her like she’s a mad woman, but he smiles despite himself.

They aren’t smiling or laughing when the manager enters the scene with a stink of hogs and baseball bat clenched tightly in his meaty hand.

\----

They aren’t enough to escape the battle without scratches. Kate’s scalp is burning from where one of the men pulled her against him by her hair, and her skin is still crawling from his grotesque hands on her face.

Seth’s been more brutalized than her though. He’s landed punches on his face; red knuckle marks decorating his cheeks, a black eye breaking the monotony of crimson, and some severely bruised ribs hidden under his shirt. He hasn’t told her about those, but judging by the way he seems to favor his right side, she knows its true.

He just stares at her when she insists on cleaning him up. The way he focuses on her makes her feel alive; it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time. Like a blind man feeling the imprints of a lingering masterpiece underneath his fingertips.

Kate strokes his temple, fingers skirting down the myriad of cuts he’s borne today. His eyes shutter upon her touch, eyelids fluttering with the tiredness of a decade. A tear meanders itself onto the back of her hand, a tiny bubble forming on the tip of her finger before it runs down and falls to the ground.

They stare openly as it gets absorbed by the filthy rug, stubborn silence broken suddenly by Seth’s sobs.

He brings his bloodied fingers to his face and hides his sins underneath them, bruised body shaking with the strength of his wails.

Kate climbs onto the bed beside him and holds him until they both fall asleep, dreaming of bloodied brothers morphing into monsters.

\----

Their camaraderie is soft at this point; they have been through much together now.

After Seth broke down in her arms, Kate’s felt significantly closer to him, but more insecure at the same time. Her past catches up to her each night and she dreams of stakes dipped in blood, of messiahs tearing themselves off their crosses, of brothers screaming betrayal on their own.

When she screams for almost two minutes straight, Seth gets up from the couch in the corner and settles into bed beside her.

She doesn’t scream again.

\----

They’re in the car driving to some place for another job; their last stash of money is almost over and Seth’s declared an embargo on bars for some time.

It’s an easy ride, filled with some music escaping the speakers, the hot wind in her hair, Seth’s covert glances –or so he thinks- resting dangerously close to her long legs currently showcased on the dashboard.

“I want to have sex.”

The screeching of tires put to an immediate halt is the only indication that her statement’s been perceived. How typically Seth. It’s so much easier to communicate his disbelief over the fact with a move that could have killed them rather than just  _say_ something.

Kate sighs.

“You  _what_  Princess?”

She should have seen this coming; the words were too impulsive and too out of the blue for him to have just agree without question. She should have waited for better timing. Where was the preacher’s daughter when needed?

_The preacher’s daughter would have waited._

No, the preacher’s daughter would never have said anything. But then again, preacher’s daughter died with her daddy, didn’t she?

“I want to have sex, Seth. I’m pretty sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Seth doesn’t say anything, just puts the car in reverse and continues driving. But there’s a red tint to his cheeks that isn’t from the heat, and a sudden tightness blooms in Kate’s chest in response.

_What has she done?_

\----

He doesn’t openly castigate her on  _that_ statement, but he treats her different from that very moment.

It’s not overt; even though this is Seth and actions speak far, far louder than words, his motions are subdued and pressed under the grief of losing his brother, anger at being stuck with a stubborn seventeen year old, and sheer frustration at being pushed into a situation he can never hope to control.

Kate sees his pain. More than that, she  _feels_ his pain.

It’s like this unsurmountable thing between them, and soon her pain and fury catches up to Seth’s. She’s a stubborn bitch so there’s not outbursts, no random shoutings erupting from her mouth, no calling out him on his fucked up crap. But the pain is always there.

It flares up when she sees Seth with another hooker, but the heartache overtakes the anger, and then Kate’s just sitting in the center of the motel bed waiting for her criminal to return.

\-----

They sleep like a married couple on their honeymoon.

Only after the both of them are in deep slumber though. Kate would hang herself before she admitted to being wrapped around Seth like the Serpent in the Garden, and Seth would rather shoot himself in the face twice before he ever agreed to having his face buried in Katie-cakes’ sweet, sweet bosom.

But as they both realize soon enough, Kate doesn’t mind being hanged and Seth trips upon the idea that there are worse things than being shot in the face.

Even twice.

\---- | ----

 

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in my folder for over four months and i really just wanted to know what people felt about it. drop me a comment maybe?


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